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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25412851">lovesick</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/joshllyman/pseuds/joshllyman'>joshllyman</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>sportsfest 2020 fills [31]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Haikyuu!!</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Domestic Fluff, M/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 04:08:55</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>858</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25412851</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/joshllyman/pseuds/joshllyman</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>It hasn’t been that long since Koutarou last got a physical; he didn’t realize doctors were getting so young these days.</p><p>“Just where did you get your degree again?” he questions, and the boy in front of him offers him a toothy smile.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>sportsfest 2020 fills [31]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1789072</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>150</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>lovesick</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>sportsfest fill: <a href="https://sportsfest.dreamwidth.org/29250.html?thread=3323714#cmt3323714">prompt here</a><br/>in the same universe as <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24746068">incorrigible</a> but you don't have to read that to understand this</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>It hasn’t been that long since Koutarou last got a physical; he didn’t realize doctors were getting so young these days.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just where did you get your degree again?” he questions, and the boy in front of him offers him a toothy smile.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Preschool!” he exclaims, and Koutarou raises his eyebrows.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dr. Hideo, do you think that makes you qualified to give me an exam?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yep!” Hideo answers. He sticks his plastic stethoscope against Koutarou’s chest. His eyes narrow, and his whole little face scrunches up. Koutarou leans in and listens with him. It’s rarely this quiet with the two of them in one room together. When Hideo pulls away, he has a very serious look on his face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Papa, I think you’re sick,” he says slowly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Koutarou’s eyes widen. “I am?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hideo nods gravely. “I think you’re very, very sick.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Koutarou reaches out and pulls Hideo into his lap. He wraps his arms around his waist. “Tell me, doctor. What do I have?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s a secret,” Hideo says. “That means I can’t tell you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can you whisper it in my ear?” Koutarou asks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hideo looks around, as if to check if anyone will know if he gives the secret away. When he sees the coast is clear, he nods. Koutarou leans down, and his son’s lips press against the shell of his ear.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think you’re sick with love,” he whispers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Koutarou laughs. “Deo, I think you’re right. Do you know what we can possibly do about it? Or is it...fatal?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hideo turns his head to the side. “Hmm, what does fatal mean?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oh. Koutarou didn’t quite think that through. “Uh, it means I’ll have it forever.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh. Then it’s definitely fatal.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Koutarou giggles, and Hideo giggles, too. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What should I do about it, then?” Koutarou asks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hideo taps his finger to his chin, large, exaggerated motions that make Koutarou smile. “I think you gotta tell me you love me every day.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh man, have I been slipping up on that?” Koutarou presses a kiss against his cheek. “Hideo, I love you so, so much!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I love you too, Papa!” Hideo answers. Koutarou turns the kiss into a raspberry, and Hideo squeals with laughter. “Stop it! You gotta tell Daddy, too!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well then, let’s go right now!” Koutarou says. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He lifts his son off his lap and offers a hand, and together they walk toward the study. Koutarou turns to Hideo just before the doorway and puts a finger to his lips to indicate quiet. Hideo nods and mirrors him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Koutarou pokes his head around the corner. Keiji is bent over a stack of papers, his glasses drooping down his nose and a red pen tapping a frantic rhythm against the desk. He’s been exhausted the last several days, pushing himself further and further toward insomnia in an effort to get things done before his deadline. Koutarou clears his throat just a little, and Keiji lifts his head away from his work.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hello, Doctor,” he says, giving Hideo a weary smile. “Koutarou. How’d your exam go?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well,” Koutarou says, taking Keiji’s words as an invitation to a break. He leads Hideo in, and they sit at Hideo’s desk in the corner in the tiny chairs. “The doctor says I’m sick.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yep, really sick!” Hideo pipes up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji places a hand to his chest. “Are you going to be alright?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, the doctor says I gotta tell him I love him every day, but that’s a sacrifice I’m willing to make.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I should hope so,” Keiji says, his lips turning up at the corners. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And he says I gotta tell you, too, and we decided I’m sick enough that it couldn’t wait.” He stands, trying not to groan with having to get up off the tiny chair. He crosses the room to his husband and holds his face with both hands, leaning down to press his forehead against Keiji’s. “I love you, Keiji.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji’s eyes close, and he lets out a small sigh. “I love you, Koutarou. Thanks for keeping him entertained today.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know I love it,” Koutarou says. He steals a quick kiss and rubs his thumb over Keiji’s cheek. “You gonna get done in time?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I always do,” Keiji says, and Koutarou is going to reply when a small force collides with his leg.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I wanna tell Daddy I love him, too!” Hideo shouts.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, but you gotta do it a little quieter,” Koutarou says, laughing softly. He steps away so Hideo can climb up into Keiji’s lap.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I love you, Daddy,” he whispers as loudly as he can, and Keiji hugs him tight.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I love you, too,” Keiji says. “Now go keep your Papa busy. You know he gets into trouble when you’re not around to stop him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay! Papa, we should read a book! I’ll go pick one out!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hideo slips off Keiji’s lap and races away, and Koutarou steals another kiss. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Be the best,” he says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji hums. “You, too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He turns back to his work, and Koutarou goes to find their son. Hideo had been right; Koutarou really is sick with love, and he wouldn’t want it any other way.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>
  <a href="joshllyman.carrd.co">socials here</a>
</p></blockquote></div></div>
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